


Redissociation

by Drakey



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Death and Rebirth, Identity Issues, M/M, Reassociation, The Dominion War - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-08 20:24:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12261459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drakey/pseuds/Drakey
Summary: At the end of 2374, Jadzia Dax is killed by Dukat aboard Deep Space nine. The Dax symbiont is rushed aboard the fastest ship available: the USS Intrepid. The Intrepid never makes it to Trill.In mid 2375, Liom Dax arrives on Deep Space Nine with brand new ensign's pips, a black belt in Betazoid Lowchan Fighting, orders to serve as a low-ranking security officer, and a head full of memories that don't completely make sense.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been in my head for a while, and after finishing a rewatch of DS9, I figured now would be a good time to get it out of my head and onto the internet.

Liom Dax took a bracing breath, reached up to fiddle with the pip at his collar, and stepped through the big round airlock door. The rich grey bulkheads of Deep Space Nine were bathed in soothing blue light, the nighttime track lighting enough to illuminate his way, but not enough to feel like full, bright, get-up-and-go light.

He was nuts.

He had to be.

Coming to Deep Space Nine, coming _back_ to it, was going to be more emotional turmoil and heartache and confused feelings than he knew what to do with, but all he really wanted when he requested the assignment was Benjamin Sisko's warm, reassuring voice and maybe a drink at Quark's.

And maybe to talk to Worf. He'd like to talk to Worf very much. There was so much he had to say to him, so much to tell him, and they could go back to their quarters and...

But they couldn't. Worf was Jadzia's husband. And Liom couldn't have him. It would be a violation of Trill law, plain and simple.

But he wanted. He felt sometimes as though the entire universe could feel the depth of his longing. Not necessarily just for Worf, but for all of it. He wanted to hear Ben call him "Old Man," wanted to twirl a bat'leth in combat with Worf, wanted to sit back and let Julian flirt, but it was all going to be different.

He emerged onto the Promenade and stopped short.

Most of the Ops crew were arrayed in a semicircle in front of the door, the one he would have to take onto the Promenade in order to reach his quarters. Quark jumped about a meter in the air when Ben yelled "surprise!"

Ben was the only one who did. The others all stared at their captain, then at Liom like they were trying to figure out if this could really be who they thought it was. Ben looked around at his crew, the fragile smile on his face slowly drooping as he gestured with the hand not holding a champagne flute towards Liom.

"It... it's Dax. Come on, people."

"That's Dax?" Miles said incredulously.

"That is not what she used to look like," Rom added helpfully.

"Well, you don't seem this confused when I turn into a chair," Odo pointed out.

"Well, that's because Rom turned himself into a brick years ago," Quark said, beginning to scrub a where he'd spilled his own champagne all over himself when he flinched.

"He's kinda cute," Colonel Kira noted. Odo gave her an affronted look, and Kira laid a placating hand on his arm.

"He is, though," Leeta said from her place next to Rom.

"Um, hi," Liom said finally. "I... I wasn't expecting a welcoming party."

"You almost didn't get one." Ben stepped forward, sweeping him up with an extended arm and leading him back toward's Quark's. "The Colonel pointed out your name on tomorrow's duty roster. I've been so busy lately, I would never have seen until you showed up in ops and wondered why I didn't know who you are."

"I was going to introduce myself to everyone individually," Liom said. He looked around. "Where's Worf?"

"Ah, Worf... couldn't make it," Miles muttered.

"Don't bother trying to talk to him," Quark advised. "I don't think he likes the idea of somebody new replacing Jadzia."

"But I'm not replacing Jadzia." Liom stepped over the threshold into Quark's bar. Morn was sitting, nursing a drink tiredly and obviously wanting little to do with the loud party, though he did dart a surprised glance at Liom. Liom made a note to have a chat with the Lurian in the morning.

"No one could," Julian said mournfully.

"We all miss Jadzia," Jake added. "But now we get to meet Liom. Tell us about yourself, Liom!"

Liom sat down at the bar. Rom pressed a champagne flute into his hand. Liom tipped it back made a little gagging noise, and said "aw. Really?"

"What is it, Old Man?" Ben asked. 

"I don't like champagne," Liom grumbled. "Jadzia loved champagne."

"Curzon, too." Ben took the glass from Liom's hand. "Something sweeter?" he asked with a smile.

Liom nodded, and in less than a minute, Quark was pressing a Cardassian Sunrise into his hand. He sipped, let out a noise of quiet relief, and started in on his story.  
"I was stationed aboard the Intrepid, filling out the crew a little and getting my field experience in before graduating from the Academy," Liom said. "They almost put me... Dax on the Destiny instead, but the Intrepid was a little faster. We almost made it to Trill, but I... but the Dax symbiont was dying, and they needed a host." He gestured to himself. "Apparently I'm compatible with the Dax symbiont. I looked at the Destiny's crew list. The only Trill on board was the ship's assistant counselor. A girl named Ezri." Liom pulled at his drink. "I went back to San Francisco, finished out the Academy, and here I am."

Jake sat next to him. "We're glad to have you. I mean, unless you snap up all the girls."

Liom smirked. "There's not much chance of that." He pulled again at his drink. "I mean, you're pretty attractive, but Leeta over there does not a thing for me, and Jadzia would have been all over her if she offered."

"Really?" Leeta exclaimed. "Jadzia would..."

"It was the hips." Liom grinned at remembered attraction. It was such a strange sensation, to remember being attracted to someone without being attracted to them anymore.

"And you think I'm attractive?" Jake asked.

"Yeah." Liom gave a forlorn look to his half-empty glass before taking a moment to polish it off. "I looked it up. Usually in a well-prepared host, the implantation of the symbiont leads to at least a minor shift in sexual orientation, usually towards being more pansexual, but in cases where the host is forced to take the symbiont earlier in the training than expected, the symbiont doesn't always manage to overwrite the host's sexuality. Since I'm the least prepared host to ever receive a symbiont, it makes sense that's I'd still be thoroughly homosexual."

"Well, that's just fascinating," Julian enthused, waving Quark over to refill Liom's now-empty glass. "Ah, do you suppose that means I have a chance with you now?"

Liom looked him up and down, waggled his eyebrows the way Curzon had liked to do, and said "more of a chance than you had with Jadzia."

"Well, you can forget about me," Quark said, handing a glass over to Liom. "A marriage between equals sounds horrible."

"It's not so bad, Brother," Rom said comfortingly. "Leeta and I have all sorts of fun together."

"You're not equals," Quark seethed unconvincingly. "She owns your lobes."

"That's for sure," Liom muttered. Jake laughed abruptly, champagne coming out of his nose. Liom smiled.

+----+

In the end, Liom didn't make it to his quarters until nearly 0300, and had to be helped there by Odo, who threatened to lock him in with a security override if he tried to get up and leave. Somewhere in the back of his head, he made a note to see if hangovers were worse for joined Trill as he squinted away from the lights in ops. Emony knew a technique for blocking out the pain of a headache, but Liom couldn't get it to work for him, and so he was stuck with an awful hangover and an aversion to light. Miles chirped a cheery greeting, and Liom waved him off. "Please, Miles, not now. My head..."

"Oh," Miles looked down at the deck. "Sorry."

Liom mounted the stairs until he found Ben in his office, where he drew himself up to attention and snapped "Reporting for duty, sir."

"Old Man," Ben said with a smile. "You must be feeling awful. You drank like Curzon last night."

"Yes sir." Liom fixed his eyes on Ben's baseball. "I... still haven't quite gotten all the personalities to... integrate."

Ben sighed. "Old Man, come on. You don't have to yes-sir-no-sir me."

Liom felt himself blushing. "Sorry si... Ben. I still have a lot of Academy in me."

"I kind of figured that out," Ben said gently. "Now, the duty roster has you working with Odo, learning the security side of working on the station. You'll be the new Starfleet security coordinator."

"Anything's better than Eddington," Liom muttered. Ben winced, and Liom grimaced. "Sorry. I--"

"Stop apologizing, Old Man," Ben said. "You're not Jadzia, just the same as Jadzia wasn't Curzon. We'll figure it out." He adopted a mock-fearsome expression. "You better not come onto my boy again, though."

Liom flushed even more than he had before. "I'm sor--"

"Relax, I'm just playing around." Ben rapped his fingers against the desk a couple of times, then added, "Of course, if you want to pursue that, you've got an uphill battle ahead of you. Jake's never really shown any interest in men."

Liom braced himself against his own hips to lean back, a gesture he recognized from both Audrid and Jadzia. "Maybe not to you." He clapped his hands to his mouth. "Oh, shit. i wasn't supposed to tell you that."

Ben blinked. "Huh. You really haven't got all these personalities sorted out, have you?"

Liom shook his head. "No. I'll... I'll go report to Odo."

As he walked out, he felt like all eyes were on him. He turned around, and there was Worf, watching him from the tactical station. Liom stepped into the turbolift.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing from insomnia. I suspect this chapter is unusually long.

Worf paced back and forth through the holosuite, looking at the space where his last opponent had fallen. The program had generated a series of increasingly brutish enemies for him to fight, beginning with a Human and sliding up the scale until his most recent conquest, a Vulcan armed with a heavy lirpa. Worf now held the lirpa, kicking away the remains of his bat'leth; the lirpa's heavy bludgeoning end had proved more than a match for the Klingon sword, battering it first out of shape and then into two.

The program generated a Gorn with a long spear. Worf grunted and charged, only to lose his stride completely when the door opened and the Gorn froze. A Trill walked in, shedding the jacket of his Starfleet uniform and tossing it aside. "Computer, one Betazoid hookstaff, two point one two meters long," the very young Trill said, holding out his hand and letting the exotic weapon materialize in it. He tested the grip, nodded, and said "add a Jem'Hadar warrior with a mek'leth and resume program."

the computer obligingly added the warrior, with which the hookstaff was extraordinarily ill-equipped to contend, and both Gorn and Jem'Hadar started moving. The Gorn was already focused on Worf, and the computer had directed the Jem'Hadar at the Trill. The Trill whipped his hookstaff around to swipe at the back of the Gorn's powerful neck. Worf watched the other man open himself up for attack and moved immediately to assure victory, swinging wide and hard at the Jem'Hadar, scoring a hit that opened up the side of its head.

The Trill was on the Gorn in a flurry of lightning-fast strikes, a poor echo of the raw power Worf could deliver with his heavier weapon. He made short work of the Jem'Hadar with his superior reach and the shattering momentum of his weapon. When he turned, the Trill had the Gorn bleeding from a dozen places, yellow blood pouring down its sides where the hookstaff had ripped at its flesh. Worf clubbed it down and severed its head with a guillotine blow from the sharp end of his lirpa. He found himself standing back to back with the Trill as this time, a pair of Gorn materialized, both carrying a sword and shield.

The way the Trill moved was mildly familiar, but difficult to place definitely, the Betazoid hookstaff moving swiftly and striking with oddly dancelike movements. It was meant to be used this way, developed as it was by a species so talented with telepathy that any killing blow would be telegraphed by the thoughts preceding it. The hookstaff led to duels in which both participants might die the death of a thousand cuts, but the victor would be whoever had fewer slashes. 

Deanna had fought with the unarmed version of this style, he realized. Lowchan was an obscure, deliberately dancelike martial art that was shockingly ill suited for taking on such hulking opponents as Gorn.

Not, Worf reflected as the hookstaff whipped past him, flinging a sword that the Trill had snared with it at the Gorn Worf was fighting, that the Trill was making a bad showing against the perfect nightmare of his ethereal, prancing style. Still, Worf was forced to end it, taking out both Gorn, only to find the Trill arming himself with one of their swords. In the Gorn's enormous hands, they were unusually long single-handed weapons, but for the Trill, it was a sizable bastard sword. This time, the computer produced a single opponent for both of them, an unarmed holographic representation of Lieutenant Commander Data.

That didn't end so well. They managed to get one of Data's legs, but not enough to stop him from soundly trouncing them. He and the Trill were left panting in the middle of the room as the program ended and the various weapons vanished. 

"What the hell was that?" the Trill asked.

"That was Lieutenant Commander Data," Worf said. "He is a worthy opponent."

"I get that," the Trill said, "I just didn't know you had a calisthenics program with him in it." Something in the Trill's tone was halfway between affronted and concern, all too familiar. "Does he know?"

"He sent it to me. Are you Dax?" Worf's blunt question echoed a little.

"Liom Dax," the Trill said. "We work in the same department. We have to be able to work together."

Worf turned away. Dax moved closer. "I'm not asking you to be bosom buddies or anything. I'm told that you hate the idea of me. Well, don't get any ideas in your head about avoiding me. I'm going to do my job, and you're not going to make it difficult. Understand?"

"You are infuriating," Worf told him bluntly. He had begun to clench his fist in the middle of Dax's speech. His knuckles now felt nearly seized up from the force with which he closed his fist.

Liom Dax walked past Worf and out the door. "I suppose I am. But something told me you had made this a matter of honor, and I had to get your attention somehow."

As the Trill left, Worf reflected that he had, in fact, done that.

+----+

The thing that continually surprised Liom, even after a week and a half in which he tried to get used to it, was Julian's behavior. He'd been flattered but not taken entirely off guard by Jake's fumbling, guarded advances. Out of respect for Ben, he'd politely turned the younger man down. He wasn't entirely sure the captain would be as willing to accept that relationship as he claimed.

Julian's interest was unexpected. Patrolling the station as a security officer was a different enough task that, although he swore up and down he knew all of the nooks and crannies of the place, he still had trouble because he'd never before walked the corridors with enforcement and security as his only goal. He was used to routes that were efficient, rather than ones that covered a large sprawl of territory and checked problem areas.

Odo's patience was appreciated at these times, but so was Julian's solicitousness. He had memorized Liom's schedule and could be seen at the door of his infirmary nearly every time Liom passed by. The doctor smiled and waved, and when Liom had time to chat, they spoke in quiet tones and close enough to each other that it could best be called "intimate."

Dax had assumed that Julian was firmly entrenched in heterosexuality, and while he seemed more respectful of Liom's body and modesty than he had been of Jadzia's, not darting glances at exposed skin and tempting portions of his anatomy as much, he was signaling his interest in a wide variety of other ways, not least among them being the little touches and tiny favors. The invitation, when it came, was somehow more surprising than he'd have thought it would be, but he still found himself meeting Julian after their shifts were over. They didn't go to Quark's or even to Vic's, which was running nonstop and drew an impressive crowd in its own right despite being inside another bar. Instead, Julian took him to a tiny, intimate--and there was that word again--Deltan bistro that had opened up in a storefront that sold kitschy Bajoran memorabilia when Jadzia had last seen it.

The atmosphere inside the eatery was awash in alien pheromones, and it finally loosened Julian's tongue. "I'm glad you accepted my invitation," Julian said. "Ever since you arrived, I've been wanting to spend some time alone with you."

Liom stirred the ice in his glass of water. "I didn't know you liked men."

Julian darkened in a blush. "You're very direct."

"It's Torias," Liom confessed. "I'm afraid they all still just... come out. I blabbed a secret at Ben the other day because I was thinking like Lela and acting like Jadzia. I have all these people in my head, and it's confusing."

Julian reached across the table. "I think I can understand part of that. I have trouble turning off my mind. Sometimes, I'll wake up at four in the morning because I've had a new thought on treating a patient, or I've grasped the solution for a logical puzzle." With the hand not holding onto both of Liom's, he tapped his temple. "What's going on here never stops. I tried meditation for a while, but it just got too loud in my head."

Liom laughed. "I didn't think anyone got it."

Julian surprised him again by bringing his hands up to kiss them. "I don't think I'd say I get it completely, but I hope that helps a little."

Liom was blushing, he knew. Julian's lips remained pressed gently to his fingers. He was looking into Julian's deep brown eyes, and the eye contact was both intense and rewarding. He wondered if Julian felt as abruptly confined by uniform trousers as he did. Given the way that the doctor's eyes were smoldering, Liom suspected he did.

Deltan bistros, he decided, were dangerous places.

+----+

Julian Bashir, Miles thought for the five hundredth time, was possibly the most infuriating person in the entire Alpha Quadrant. It was their first full day off together in almost a month, and instead of at Quark's or in his quarters, like a sensible person would be, he was nowhere to be found. Miles looked up at the ceiling and let out a long-suffering sigh. "Computer," he began, but he jumped when a voice cut him off.

"Miles!" Miles turned, and there was Julian, with Dax trailing along behind him. Dax seemed to be in a shy mood today, one he'd helpfully identified to Miles as "particularly Tobin-ey" before, hiding in Julian's shadow.

"Julian," Miles exclaimed. "Don't tell me Dax is having symbiont trouble." They were coming from the opposite direction from the infirmary, but if Dax had been in enough distress, Julian might have made a house call.

"Ah, no," Julian said.

Dax peeked around Julian, his face red and smiling. "He spent the night in my quarters."

"No kidding?" Miles knew it wasn't the cleverest response, but he did feel a little flat-footed. He didn't object to Julian's newest affair, though he did wonder if it was totally advisable. Not objecting to it certainly wasn't the same as being unsurprised by it.

Julian smiled brightly. "Absolutely. I'm lending him my copy of Dracula, and he's lending me Jadzia's old copy of Tale of Two Cities."

"You'll love it," Dax said, holding up a slender volume that had been hidden behind Julian. Julian let them both into his quarters. Dax moved to set the book in his hands down on Julian's coffee table but Julian snatched it up, leaned over to steal a kiss from the younger man, and headed into his bedroom, from which he emerged with a thick leatherbound edition of Stoker's famous novel. Dax secured the goodbye kiss, a slightly more fiery one than the one Julian had taken earlier. They made gooey eyes at each other when Dax left, and Miles raised an eyebrow at Julian. 

"Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to get ready?"

Julian jumped a little. He looked Miles up and down, taking in for apparently the first time the fact that Miles was wearing his period gear for the Alamo program. "Right," Julian, said, and rushed into his bedroom, where he changed in what Miles was sure was record time. When he came back out, he was just tucking his combadge into an interior fold of his outfit.

"So, you and Dax?" Miles tried to keep the incredulousness out of his voice with, he knew, only mild success. "What's going on there?"

Julian smiled broadly, sighed happily, and preceded him out the door. "It's amazing, Miles. It's as though we have an almost spiritual connection. He told me last night that he's been attracted since he came on board. That Jadzia was attracted, too, but nothing like the way he is. I'm glad it never went anywhere, with her and I, or I wouldn't get to have this with Liom."

"I didn't think you liked men," Miles said as they emerged onto the Promenade. Worf was heading off to a mission with Martok, ready to assume command of the Koraga. Miles waved, and Worf gave him a look that suggested he thought the Alamo program was a silly waste of time, which was unfair; the Alamo program was a historically interesting, well-written waste of time.

"I don't, normally," Julian said, "but Miles, this is Dax!" He was bouncy in his enthusiasm, and Miles cringed a bit as Worf obviously heard and turned to stare at Julian.

"Doctor Bashir," Worf growled, "are you courting Dax?"

Julian finally seemed to realize that he was loudly declaring his personal business all over the Promenade. "Ah... yes?"

Worf went from his usual irritable self to positively thunderous in seconds. For a moment, Miles feared he would strike Julian, but then the big Klingon turned on his heel and walked away, a bit more quickly than he needed to. A Bajoran family jumped to move out of his way.

"That's going to end well for you," Miles said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liom very much wants to be a take-charge person, and he certainly was before the joining, but he's finding it hard to find ways to be decisive with a bunch of extra people in his head. One thing he was decisive on was how to deal with Worf, though. Curzon knew how to handle Klingons, and Jadzia knew how to handle Worf, and so he used his extensive physical skill to impress Worf into giving him the respect to listen to what he had to say.
> 
> Poor Liom really didn't stand a chance against all that Bashir charm...
> 
> Julian Bashir could minimize his problems so well by shutting the hell up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's pronounced LIE-ohm, by the way.

Kira Nerys stepped up to where Liom Dax was sitting with Julian Bashir and Miles O'Brien. They were laughing over something while Julian held Liom's hand. 

"So Boday gives me this horrified look and says 'your never told me your species was hermaphroditic,' like I'd just gone away for a few months to lose a tenth of a meter and grow a penis." Liom sipped his coffee, made a face, sipped again, made the same face, and continued on, "he actually asked if Worf was okay with it!"

"So when he says stupid things like that, does his brain twitch extra-hard?" Julian asked, but Miles cleared his throat and pointed to Nerys. 

Liom took another sip of coffee and pulled the face again. He had told Nerys that he hated the taste of coffee, but drinking it had been such a comforting little ritual to Curzon that he couldn't stop himself from drinking it every morning. Once the little sip-and-face dance was finished, he turned to give polite attention to her. Nerys stared down at the table they were gathered around in the replimat. "We just got word from the Klingons. The Rotarran and the Koraga were caught in a Dominion ambush."

There was a long silence. Quietly, Liom whispered, "Worf was on the Koraga."

"It didn't make it," Nerys told him. "Captain Sisko is taking the Defiant right now to start a search."

"We have to go!" Liom started up from his seat, but Nerys shook her head. 

"The Defiant is already launched." Nerys rested a hand on his shoulder. "The Captain's left me in charge. I need you to come to ops and get familiar with the tactical panel. Worf may be... out... for a while."

Liom followed along behind her when she left. Julian scrambled out of his chair to go with Liom. Miles let out an inventive combination of English, Bajoran, and Klingon obscenities before hurrying to catch up with them, handing Liom his drink. When Liom sipped in the turbolift, he didn't make the face.

+----+

Vic sat next to the newest customer. He looked like he might be the same kind of whatever as Jadzia had been. He also looked like he was trying to figure out which drink came in the best glass for drowning himself in it. "What's the matter, Pally? You look like somebody just shot your dog."

The stranger looked around the lounge. "It's Worf." He glared sullenly at the olive in his martini. "And Julian."

Vic leaned back in his chair. "Do I know you?"

The stranger blushed the same odd color Jadzia used to. "Sorry I had to come in here at such a bad time. We've all been a little busy, and I've been off training. I'm Liom Dax." Vic nodded as the pieces fell together. Kasidy and Jake had both told him about the new ensign with Jadzia's memories. Morn, the funny-looking guy who had started coming in after the Frankie Eyes incident, had bent his ear for a couple of hours about how Liom was probably a pretty good successor to Jadzia, but it was weird to talk to him and keep recognizing things Jadzia had done, and he'd never realized Jadzia had been _flirting_ with him until he was uncomfortable with the same gestures and teasing from Liom, and blah blah blah, it had all gotten a bit much after a while.

"All right," Vic said. "What's going on with Worf?"

Liom frowned. "His ship was ambushed by the Jem'Hadar. Worf is missing."

Vic's mouth formed a little "o," but before he could comment, Liom continued on.

"The Defiant got chased away from the search by Jem'Hadar ships this morning. I'm going to go looking for him. I have an idea." Liom sucked in a deep breath. "Julian's going to hate it."

"I thought you yellow-shirts did all the fighting. Are you that worried about your doctor's recommendation?" Vic got a waiter headed their way with a decent sipping whiskey. This seemed like a conversation he'd want to have while drinking.

"Fighting and fixing things. I'm security, though. And... I don't particularly care about Julian's objections on the medical front. I care what my boyfriend thinks about it, though." Liom tossed his drink back with something like anger. "He's going to be afraid because I'm putting myself at risk, and he's going to be mad because I'm going after Worf, and Worf was Jadzia's husband."

Vic sucked in a breath. "You know how to put your foot in it, don't you?"

Liom gave him a sardonic look. "You don't know the half of it."

Vic mirrored the look. "So tell me about it."

Liom gave him a slightly challenging look, one he hadn't seen from Jadzia, and said bluntly, "the sex hasn't changed. With Julian. We've been intimate on twelve different occasions, and it's like the same exact sequence of events every time."

Vic blushed a little. He had, technically, asked for this, and he'd given more awkward advice in the past. "That's probably not great," he allowed. "Not getting into the nitty gritty, I mean, there's some things us holograms don't need to know, but what's the routine?"

Liom looked up when the waiter delivered Vic's whiskey and ordered one for himself. As the waiter left, he said "Julian takes me to the Deltan diner, to Quark's, or we have a picnic in the arboretum. On the picnics, which we've done three of, he brings a bottle of wine. We drink until we've finished the wine, or we get about that drunk at Quark's and the diner. We go to my quarters, have slightly sloppy tipsy sex, and he lets me drift off for a while while he goes and has another drink, then he comes back, and that wakes me up, and we have much nicer, more gentle sex, then we fall asleep."

Vic sipped his whiskey. "I didn't think Julian was that much of a drinker."

Liom shrugged. "He isn't usually, but on dates, I guess he needs to keep his courage up."

Vic shook his head. "Liom, pally, that's not a man keeping his courage up. That's a man running away from something. Try and ask him about it, right?"

Liom took his whiskey from the waiter and immediately tossed the whole thing back. He let out a loud grunt and smacked the glass down on the table with a sharp clack. "Right." He stood up and hurried out of the bar. Nearby patrons, startled by the noise, slowly turned back to their meals.

Vic slowly drew in and even more slowly let out a deep breath. He wondered if Julian had just felt a chill.

+----+

Julian chased after Liom while the younger... older... other man walked briskly through the corridors. He moved like Jadzia sometimes, when he was moving with a purpose. Not at all like the seductive walk he adopted when they went to bed together. It was a stride that carried power and determination. It was also fast, especially given that Liom was shorter than Julian.

"Liom, dammit, we're not done with this conversation!" Julian shouted after him.

"I told you, you need to get counseling for your drinking. I'll only be gone for a couple of days. I'll be there to help." Liom turned in at the runabout docking bay, punching in his access code.

"I don't have a drinking problem!" Julian objected.

Liom turned in the airlock, and Julian stopped short. "Yes, you do." Liom turned back towards the runabout. Julian followed him again, this time into the runabout. He turned, looked at Julian, and growled, "get out, Julian. You need to focus on getting better."

"I'm coming with you," Julian told his boyfriend determinedly. "I'll show you I don't have a drinking problem."

Liom palmed the door shut. "Fine. Come with. Here." He handed Julian an isolinear chip. "Put that in the main computer. It's the Defiant's search logs." He went to the main console and started entering commands. A minute later, just as Julian was getting the chip into place, the hull of the station slowly dropped below them. The eerie sensation of artificial gravity keeping them still against the motion abated when the platform stopped, and Liom started the runabout's engines, gave some completely absurd excuses to traffic control, and went to warp with unseemly haste. He tapped in a few more commands at the computer, then swiveled his chair to look at Julian.

Julian blanched a bit. "Is that it?"

Liom nodded. "We're on autopilot. The computer will warn us if anything shows up on the sensors. Now talk."

Julian started to pace. "You're going after Worf against orders. What makes you think Captain Sisko won't come after us in the Defiant?"

Liom tapped a foot against the console beside him. "Ben sent us the same search data I stole from the Defiant as we were leaving."

"Oh." Julian sat. "Why do you think I have a drinking problem?"

"You start every date with me by drinking about three quarters of a bottle of wine." Liom tapped a foot on the floor. "You go and have a drink again after we have sex. You can't even be creative because you're too busy getting drunk... oh."

Julian blinked. "Oh?"

Liom nodded. "I'm sorry, Julian. I feel like an idiot. I let Vic convince me you had a problem. You just have so much going on up there you need the wine to slow it down, don't you?" Liom blushed, his skin going just a little yellow to match his spots. "I... I forgot that you're... enhanced."

Julian shook his head. He hadn't really identified it before, he'd been a little worried, in fact, about the fact that he seemed to need to drink before he could be with Liom, but that... made a lot of sense. "I didn't really connect it myself, Liom."

Liom looked up at the ceiling, and he was so embarrassed by his error that Julian got up to kiss him, and Liom looked up at him, and he was... hungry.

Julian glanced at the display. They had nearly half a day before they would get to their destination. He pulled Liom up out of his chair and took him to the living quarter module in the back. He could do this for Liom. He didn't need the alcohol to shut off his brain. 

He'd never needed it with anybody else, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Julian... goddammit, Julian.
> 
> I forgot to include Vic Fontaine in the tags! I know he's a little bit divisive, as a character, but he's an important part of the crew's lives, so of course, he gets to show up a bit.
> 
> Besides, I like him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a timeskip in this one, but it would have gotten to be pretty tedious otherwise.

The Breen roughly shoved Dax back into the cell their three prisoners shared. A day and a half of imprisonment had done nothing to improve their moods, and less to improve their circumstances. It was painful, Worf mused, to watch Bashir fawning over Dax in his typically human manner. It had been painful from the start. Being rescued, having that rescue interrupted by the Jem'Hadar, everything. He had so far suppressed the urge to kill the doctor, largely because he felt no attraction at all for this new, male Dax. And because, when Worf and Dax forgot, Bashir remembered to take the communications equipment with them as they were beaming off the Gander. 

Not, Worf reflected irritably, that it had mattered much. Not when the Breen showed up right afterwards. Their obfuscating incomprehensibility, their aggression and coldly calculated cruelty, were all dishonorable cover for a weak people, like Romulans without the subtlety to play games of intrigue. The Breen were thugs.

But they were very good at it. Dax was writhing on the floor, as Worf had been a scant few hours before. He babbled phrases Worf half-remembered from conversations with Jadzia, yelled and protested, looked about ready to die. He called out alternately to Worf and to Bashir, and when Bashir finally managed to wake him, he sat suddenly upright with a sharp gasp. "WORF!" he yelled, twisting to look around the cell. "Julian... I..." He clung to Bashir, but Bashir was looking over Dax's head at Worf.

+----+

Round three of torture had apparently been conducted with the same brutal efficiency as rounds one and two. Liom had sat and talked stiffly with Worf while Julian was off being hosted by their Breen captors. If he was completely honest with himself, he knew he was still in love with Worf. Some part of him was certain he always would be. Worf had told him of the battle he'd dedicated to the memory of Jadzia, and Liom's heart had melted a little, but Worf had also told him that Liom's maleness made him as impossible for Worf to sexualize as Ben was, and Liom's heart had frozen back up very nicely.

Now, though, it was shattering. Julian was writhing on the floor, the quiet thrum of the Breen ship's engines forming a counterpoint to his words as he called out.

As he called out to Jadzia.

In among the cries for a woman who was dead, who was gone, who was forever a part of Liom, were other words. "Is that what we have become? Ceasar can do no wrong!" He thrashed to the left, cried out "Jadzia!" Thrashed to the right. "How could they have let things get so bad?" He tossed his head back and forth so fast Liom was sure he would hurt himself. "It doesn't work that way, Quark," he said as his head thumped against the floor, then "JADZIA" again, and he went briefly slack and mumbled "machines can't have hallucinations. But then again--most machines can't grow hair."

Julian was quiet for a few moments before he groaned and opened his eyes. "Oh," he said. He looked left and right, obviously reorienting himself to where he was, seeing Worf sitting on the bench at one side of the cell, seeing Liom, half off of his own bench at the other side. "I... I told them everything they asked."

Liom seated himself on his bench. "I'm sure you did. We all did."

Bashir sat up. "Liom?"

"No," Liom said. He turned away from Julian.

Across the cell, Worf supplied, with a sort of vicious satisfaction, "you called out for Jadzia. You did not call out for Liom."

Julian crumpled. "Liom, you know I--"

"You love Jadzia. You're just trying to prove to yourself that you love her more than Worf." Liom lay back on his bench and glared at the ceiling. He could have been posted on the Enterprise, but he just had to go back to Deep Space Nine. "You drink before we make love because you don't want me. You never wanted me. You just wanted Dax."

Julian scooted to the back wall of their cell.

+----+

"You can either trust me, or you can stay here and be executed."

The Trill, Damar supposed he was the new Dax, looked him up and down. "I vote for option one," he said.

"That's wise." Damar handed over the Jem'Hadar's rifles to the two Starfleet security personnel. This was insane. He knew that much. He was going to be killed, violently, by the Dominion. Cardassian law was going to reluctantly agree that it had to be done. Worf took the rifle he was offered and seemed to contemplate using it to end Damar's life. _Go ahead and do it. I'm dead anyway._

"Why?" their doctor asked.

Damar snorted. "You humans have a saying. Better to rule in Hell than to serve in Heaven. I was never the ruler in this Hell." He stepped back from the door. "I'll stay here. You tell your Captain Sisko that the Federation has an ally on Cardassia." The three Starfleeters began to slowly edge away from him. "Move!" Damar snapped.

They ran.

+----+

Nerys breathed out a heavy sigh of relief as the airlock door opened. Worf, Julian, and Liom looked exhausted and frazzled, but they were all in one piece. She moved forward to start embracing them, going to start with Worf while Miles went straight for Julian, but they both stopped in their tracks when Liom stormed away from the other two. "Where's Ben?" he asked.

"I'll take you to him," Nerys said while Julian moved forward to accept his hug from Miles and Worf moved away like a tidal wave looking for a coastal hamlet. "What's wrong? I mean, you told us about the Breen, but that can't be all."

Liom glanced at Nerys. "I'm sorry. It's nothing to do with you. It's... It's Julian. And Worf."

Nerys gave him a searching look. Liom sighed. "Julian never really wanted me. He wanted Jadzia. But Jadzia's gone. I'm what's left, and he wasn't even attracted to me, not really."

Nerys clenched a fist. She wanted to be surprised, she really did, but this... was exactly the sort of thing Julian did to screw up his relationships. "He can't go anywhere without hurting someone," she growled, slapping the call button for the turbolift with more force than was strictly necessary. "I thought you two were..."

"We were." Liom watched the door. By all appearances, he was searching for the best place to put the knife when he attacked it. "I thought he drank to shut off his brain so he could concentrate on me. He didn't. He got drunk on our dates because that was the only way he could climb into bed with me. You know, he was almost used to it." The door hissed open. A Bajoran woman inside got out, skirting carefully around the blast radius of Liom's mood. As Nerys got in the turbolift with Liom, he went on. "We... on the runabout. Once. He had trouble, but I just assumed he was having trouble turning off his brain. I asked him, while we were on Cardassia. He never had to drink for anyone but me."

Nerys gripped the railing in the lift so hard her knuckles turned white.

They arrived in ops. Nerys thundered to Sisko's office, and stopped abruptly when she walked in. The captain sat behind his desk, staring hollowly at a padd. "Sir?"

Benjamin Sisko looked up with tears threatening to form in his eyes. "The Breen have attacked Earth."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fucking Julian Bashir. Apparently, his relationship with Ezri comes to a similar, Jadzia-related end in the novels.


End file.
